


It's Only Logical

by TeaAndPaint



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Bubbles, Rain Sounds, Set after DwIT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2020-07-09 03:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19881052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaAndPaint/pseuds/TeaAndPaint
Summary: In which Remus' actions lead to some surprises.Or, Logan spearheads the recovery period in aftermath of Remus' rude entrance. Obviously, everything is going to be fine. Logan is prepared to fight for this with calm words and sharp sticks.





	1. Stage One - Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER ALERT!!! This takes place after "Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts," so if you haven't watched the video yet, I highly recommend you do so. Not only will the video be good to watch at ungodly hours of the night when you can't sleep but it will also clarify the events leading to when this fic takes place. :)

“Are you sure you are perfectly fine, Logan? How are you feeling?”

Logan quelled the urge to correct Patton about Logan having feelings. They had gone through quite an ordeal today and there was no need to further aggravate today’s inconvenience. As Patton turned his head from side to side, Logan saw Virgil tending to the large bump on Roman’s head.

“How is he, Virgil?” Virgil gave him a grimace.

“I’m surprised Princey here isn’t concussed. Virgil continued sassing an insulted Roman before he blinked, “Any reason why you have that sappy look on your face, Teach?” 

Only then did Logan notice that his seventh cranial nerve was lifting the corners of his mouth. Virgil laughed, a low, easy sound of presumably amusement. Logan faintly registered a uniquely Patton squeal as well. His fingers were suddenly appendages he could not control, so he busied himself with fixing his tie.

“Look,” Patton cooed, “Logan is blushing!” Logan cleared his throat. He knew Virgil and Patton were not making fun of him, but the rush of blood that was making his face darken was not leaving anytime soon.

“Roman, is there anything else hurt from your…brother’s onslaught? Of course, any harm that befell you should not be permanent as they have no real-world impact, but that does not guarantee the safety of your mental state.”

Roman groaned at the hand tugging down his tunic, stopping him from sitting up. He feebly batted away Virgil’s hand, to Virgil’s bemusement. 

“Roman, I suggest you settle down before-“

It seemed that Virgil was done with Roman’s antics, because hissing could be heard as his fellow Side aggressively shined a light into Roman’s eyes. 

“Virgil, why are you checking his eyes again when you already said you were surprised that Roman was not concussed?” His question caused a pause in the hissing as Roman tried to throw a look towards Logan, possibly in gratitude at his intervention. 

“Only my pride, Logan, only my pride.”

“We’re always decked in pride, Princey! Stop trying to sit up!”

“Virgil, no need for a…hissy fit!” Never mind, perhaps Roman was mentally injured somehow since he antagonized Virgil again.

“Patton, are you quite finished? I believe you have prodded my face enough to know that there is no lasting damage. Perhaps Roman would benefit more from your care, as Virgil looks,” the sound of fluttering paper filled the air as Logan searched for the correct vocab card, “‘done’ with his antics.” 

Patton sighed with an easy grin. “Sure, Logan,” here he gave Logan one of his “Patton-ted” pats on the head, “Make sure to freshen up before dinner.” Logan nodded in acknowledgement. 

Back in his room, his clothes rustled as he sorted through the various clothing sections he had. Organized by material and occasion, his normal attire was quickly swapped for galaxy sweatpants and a NASA tee. Censored cursing from the kitchen alerted him to who was doing the cooking tonight. He entered the kitchen and found Virgil stress cooking. 

“Today’s theme, Virgil?” Virgil didn’t spare him a glance, grumbling at how Roman misplaced the seasonings. 

“’Sup, Lo. Today we sup on soup.” 

Logan’s head snapped up from inspecting the boiling pot, a question on his lips. 

"Nah, the soup’s cooking time is fairly short. Care to set the table? Pat’s bread bowls are almost done cooling. Supper in ten.” 

The plates and cutlery touched the table with soft clinks. Virgil’s tenseness eventually faded out with his rhythmic stirring. Logan himself was enjoying the calm in the kitchen. Far be it from Logan to cause that tenseness to return, but he had to ask. 

“Virgil, are you all right? I know that Remus left quite an impact on you and Patton.” 

Virgil sighed. “I’m dealing. I know, I know, Remus can’t leave any lasting harm if we don’t let him, but it’s still unsettling, y’know?” He gave Logan the ladle to let Logan taste the now-cooling soup as he took off his “Don’t Kiss the Cook (without permission)!” apron. 

“It’d be hard to believe that Roman and Remus are twins if they didn’t have the same face and flair for the dramatics.” Virgil rolled his eyes and followed up with a shrug. 

Out of unspoken promises, Logan held out his hand and lightly squeezed when Virgil took his hand. 

“He’s a nuisance. He’s just a common cold. I handle the fight-or-flights and…and I try to protect Thomas. It’ll take time for me to figure out how to deal, but I’ll manage. You gave me a pretty good example of what to do, after all.” The little quirk to Virgil’s mouth reassured Logan he didn’t have to worry. The tempest and the Antonio who caused it were gone, as were today’s troubles. 

“Okay Teach, time to call them in. Soup’s better when it’s warm.” 

Virgil gave Logan a knowing look, “Be glad Pat didn’t make anything more than the bread bowls. Roman is still haunted by the spaghetti he got during Christmas.” 

“An unfortunate incident,” Logan replied; he was trying to keep a straight face. “I’ll go call them in.” 

Dinner was a comforting affair. Virgil’s cooking was often simple but tasty. Patton was brilliant at baking but his cooking was atrocious. For the entire dinner, everything felt normal. Patton was cracking puns. Roman was (thankfully) back to his energetic self with passionate spoon waving to go along with his calls for a more diverse Disney. 

"Ok, everyone done? I think today calls for a movie night!" 

Right when Logan was close to falling asleep at the dinner table, Roman was shaking him awake. 

"Logan will get first pick—we owe him that much!" Even in his sleepy mind, Logan knew Roman's knockout in today's episode hit him hard. No matter how cheerful Roman was about his pride being hurt, he truly was hurt over it. 

"Come, Logan, I shall carry you to the seat of honor directly in front of the TV!" 

For once, Logan did not protest when Roman included him in his theatrics. He simply slung his arms around Roman's neck, saying, "Oh no, whatever shall I do? Roman, please take me to the sacred sanctuary of the sofa." 

Of course, he said it with the flattest voice possible. He couldn't alert them to how dramatic he could make things using his logic. 

"Verily, dear Logan, you shall arrive without a single scratch!" 

Logan was picked up with the utmost care and promptly deposited on the sofa. Normally, Logan would have rolled off before Roman could carry him, but today was an unusual day. Roman's arms had been sturdy and comforting. Perhaps allowing Roman to carry him around more often would help Roman feel better about himself. Logan was not so cruel to value his pride over the other Sides. 

As they settled around him on the sofa for a Disney marathon, Logan was left sprawling between Virgil and Roman. Virgil was covered neck down with the weighted blanket Logan had gifted him some time back. Warmth rose in Logan's heart as he saw Virgil's face free of the stress often shaping it. Virgil caught him looking—he slowly grinned and gave Logan's hand a quick squeeze. 

Feeling emboldened, Logan reached out to the hand on the sofa belonging to Roman. Roman's face quickly turned to give Logan a questioning gaze. Logan smiled to the best of his abilities. The song playing in the Big Hero 6 scene faded into the background as Logan prepared to murmur in Roman's ear. 

"Everything will be fine, Roman. I'm glad you are you." 

If Roman's face suddenly reddened and his eyes watered, no one commented on it. And if Patton and Virgil saw Roman suddenly lean into Logan without Logan's normal protests, they only smiled. 

And if Roman was squeezing his hand a bit tighter than comfortable, Logan didn't voice any complaints. 

Things were going to be okay, after all. There was no reason to worry.


	2. Stage 2 - Confront the Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman finds out that the Microsoft Nerd has more than just words up his sleeves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I applaud you if you noticed that this unfinished work became longer.

Logan awoke to find himself tucked in his bed with his glasses on the bedside table. The house was devoid of any chatter and slightly cool, which meant it was still early. He didn't bother for a glance at the clock; his attention was caught by a faint ringing in his ears.

The effect of his room was, put simply, the clean truth. Logic pierced the veil of falsehood, so if he concentrated, he could be alerted to the going-ons of the house. While useful, he almost never had a use of this feature because he was respecting everyone's privacy. After the skirmish with Remus, however, he had decided to "turn it on," so to speak. It was merely a precaution that could allow him some time to prepare in case Remus appeared again.

The ringing in his ears was getting louder to him as he zoned out. His lack of movement made his whole body pulse from his heartbeats. His heartbeat was quickening to match the ringing.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thumpthumpthump-

He could tell that Virgil and Patton were still slumbering in a blanket fort in the living room, which meant he had been the first to doze off last night. He faintly wondered if they had managed to turn off the television.

There was a clang. Logan wondered if there was a cat somewhere in the mindscape eating the food Patton left out. But what about Roman?

"No! That isn't good enough! Again!"

Logan's heartbeat faltered. That was most definitely Roman.

________________

Logan didn't know what he was expecting standing in the hallway in his slippers, but this was it. There was no sound travelling from Roman's room into the hallway. _Smart, but concerning,_ his mind helpfully supplied. It seemed that Roman was hit harder than Logan originally thought. But that was not an issue to Logan, because finding ways to confront the problem source was definitely a method to move on. He stood in the hallway, debating on whether he should allow Roman to be on his own in this. Most likely the clanging and ringing were from Roman and his sword.

It was more than possible that Roman was preparing for a confrontation of Remus. Logically, Roman had an idea that was not incorrect. However, Logan was sure this method of coping would not work. With his mind set, he opened the door a tad and stepped in.

Roman's room was in a terrible condition. Instead of taking the form of Roman's bedroom, it took the form of a training ground. Sword racks and shields were scattered everywhere, with no sign of Roman's katana. The floor crunched under Logan's feet; with every step he took, ground crumbled under his steps. Logan must have been a sight—he hadn't stopped to change from his sleeping clothes.

Roman was the complete opposite. As his room had reflected a training ground, he had changed with it into a loose tunic and trousers. A thin circlet was forgotten, dangling off of a hook meant for a bow. Logan was sure the white tent of animal hides to his left had even more deadly equipment. To his right, he spied training dummies in various stages of ruin. The slashes in the nearest dummy suggested that Roman was sloppier than usual. The cuts weren't as clean as they could have been.

He allowed himself to wander some more before stopping a small distance away from Roman. In the exhilaration of training, Roman did not notice him. Roman was panting heavily and Logan caught sight of the bump from earlier. His head injury was not fully healed.

Ah, Roman had called over someone to spar with. Logan settled himself down uncaring of the dirt and watched. Slash. Backstep. Roman had to dodge to the side following his failed backstep. Jab aimed at the throat, but caught on a mace handle. A brief power struggle. Roman leaned his weight into the fight and managed to throw off the heavier mace. A slash aimed at the unnamed sparring partner's thighs gave him an opening near his opponent's stomach. A jab followed by a sword to a neck. Roman cursed. The partner was not strong enough. Not sturdy enough. He didn't fight like Remus at all. Another failure.

Logan had enough.

"Your footwork was sloppy, Roman."

Even while armed with a sword and surrounded by weapons, Roman still flinched at the sight of Logan.

"That backstep was wasted time, energy, and left you open. The jab to the throat was too soon and led to more energy expended trying to force your opponent's weapon away. You're rushing."

Dusting off his pants, Logan reached for a blade, experimentally wiggling the hilt and pommel. Roman was now gaping at the sight of Logan standing and checking if the blade curved. Logan swung the sword with a small flourish. He was not accustomed to its weight, he noticed. It was odd to swing a weapon balanced differently from a weapon Logan would use. In fact, he was more used to weight spread across lengthier shafts than hilts.

"Do your swords always have pommels, Roman? What happened to your katana?" A snort from Roman's general direction was the answer. Logan paid it no mind; Roman would never misplace his weapons. If anything, Roman may have been disbelieving that Logan knew how to grip a sword handle properly.

Logan placed the sword onto a weapons rack. These types of swords were to Roman's tastes and build, not his. Perhaps he would try to convince Roman to use weapons with longer range sometime. He faced Roman.

"Care to explain why you are training with a head injury when you should be resting?"

Another snort from Roman rang through the air. Logan resisted the urge to scold him.

"How now, Logan? Were you not the one who said that these injuries had no real-world affect? I see no reason why I can't be using my time and room for my own purposes." Nevertheless, Roman sat down on a crate. Logan counted that as a small victory.

Logan made a motion of adjusting his glasses to summon them to him. As the comforting weight of his glasses settled and improved the clarity of his vision, he swept back his bedhead.

Roman winced at the scraping noises as Logan dragged a crate in front of him to sit.

"Show me your hands, Roman."

Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Roman doggedly refused. At this rate, Roman would take longer to fully recover.

"Roman, if you do not allow me to treat your hands, Patton will. We both know how thorough Patton can be."

Slowly, under Logan's watchful eyes, Roman revealed his hands. Logan cradled Roman's calloused hands with practiced ease. While examining the healing and the newly inflicted blisters, Logan snapped his fingers. A first aid kit plopped quietly into his lap.

"You know the drill, Roman: too loose, too tight, tell me to make it right."

Logan concentrated on the sounds around him rather than Roman's hands. He simply could not focus on something he'd done so many times before.

"You've done this before." Logan hummed. "Logan. You've definitely done this before. How do you have practice with something like wrapping wounds?"

A violent twitch of his shoulders told Roman all he needed to know. Logan's hand paled as Roman's fingers wove themselves around it.

_"Logan. Why?"_

Logan's eyes rose to meet Roman's eyes. Roman's eyes were wide, almost crazed, as Roman wordlessly muttered. Logan was alarmed at how much his pupils dilated.

There was no raised eyebrow, no easy grin, no smoothness in Roman's face. His eyelids were raised, his teeth were clenched; Roman looked like a cornered animal of a hunt.

Logan was falling, shaking, swaying, and then he realized. It wasn't him. It was Roman.

The room was rumbling.

Logan steeled himself. It would be highly inappropriate to panic now.

The ground was cracking, groaning, falling apart like ashes. 

The weapons around them rattled. Tents collapsed. Fissures ruptured around them with the sounds of a dying earth. Logan gasped.

Grape vines were browning, darkening, turning into thorns. The air turned bitter, quiet, a rattling dryness that followed the color of sand. The sun was harshly bright, hot, the light a sickly green.

Logan's vision dimmed as his eyes narrowed. This scenario was similar to a few mythical events too many. Without hesitation, he closed the remainder of the space between himself and his creative counterpart.

Positioned so that Roman would be able to feel his heartbeats, Logan tucked his chin lightly upon Roman's crown of tousled hair.

"Roman," he began, "I need you to calm down first." Yes, calmness was good. Calmness meant safety, calmness meant no emotional outbreaks. Calmness was better.

"Breathe in for 4, hold for 7, out in 8. Just like how Virgil taught us. Come on, 1...2...3…"

Roman's chest heaved as he tried to do exactly that. Eventually, a stillness returned as the sickly green was overtaken by a warmth. Logan saw royal red out of the corner of his eyes. The sweetness of flowers and grapes returned in the air. A cool breeze shyly brushed Logan's hair out of his eyes.

Logan exhaled.

"It is high time we leave, Roman. Perhaps my room will be a good change of pace."

A light shaking against his chest signaled a nod.

" Very well."

Logan gave a brisk snap. Roman's room dissolved into bubbles, floating around them and rejoined into walls. Rain ambience sounds were playing. 

They were in his room, safe and sound. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened. Roman needs hot chocolate and cake. Also, Virgil's been wondering why Logan seems on high alert....
> 
> Comments? Questions? We would love to hear them!


	3. Stage 3 - Throwing the Gauntlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like they're going with Roman's idea.
> 
> Logan is, metaphorically speaking, in pain from the mess that is the Creativity brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! There is a short passage about Logan analyzing wounds, analyzing blood, and roughly 3 small phrases of suggestive language. If you find that the warning on this fic is not appropriate, please go ahead and tell me! 
> 
> Happy reading :)

Virgil was the first to notice. Logan was very impressed that Virgil was so attentive even when he put up airs of nonchalance. 

After Roman had calmed down to the point when Logan deemed him to be okay, Roman was sent into the waiting hands of Patton. Patton's eyes sharpened as he looked over Roman's head again. Logan quietly slipped out of the room; Thomas's morality and creativity worked more closely than logic would with creativity. So he left them to their devices. Patton was much better at dealing with feelings. 

Logan conceded that point to Patton. 

Back in his room, Logan gave a sigh as the room rearranged itself to fit what he saw in Roman's room. Sure enough, the sickly green from before clung to Roman. It oozed out of his wounds and into the world around him.

He flicked the air in front of him. He was now staring at the moment when Remus had snuck up upon Roman. The sickly green engulfed Remus like an aura, tinting everything he touched green. 

Roman had tinges of green. 

"So, you've got a plan, Logan?" 

Virgil spun at his seat on Logan's swivel chair. He focused his attention on the scene Logan had projected in his room. 

"Yeah, that's gonna be a problem." He drew his legs into himself, allowing the chair to slowly spin. "Remus isn't the type to go away after just one incident. He's gonna keep coming back. He's gonna keep coming back until he gets his way. "

Virgil had gotten more animated as he spoke about Remus. Logan knew there was more than just that to their history, but that history was not his business. 

"He doesn't leave you alone! He picks at the things you want to avoid and pushes you to them! He..."

As Virgil ranted, Logan dimmed the lights. Virgil would be more comfortable in a darker setting since he was laying himself bare in front of Logan in his attempts to help. Logan would respect that. Showing insecurity was a very human thing to do and best done in the appropriate comfort zone. 

Without looking at Virgil, Logan tossed him a weighted blanket. A muffled "thanks" is heard as Logan mulled over possible plans in his head. Would a direct confrontation with Remus be ideal? Or would damage control be best for this situation? 

What was Remus? He was spontaneous, self-assured, and even a good speaker, but also creative in some of the worst of ways. He was like a stubborn mosquito: harmful when left alone, yet extremely elusive when sought out. There was silence in the room. Perhaps Virgil was contemplating his next course of action? 

"Virgil, may I interrupt to explain to you my thoughts?"

There was a brief pause as if Virgil had to process a sentence he never heard before. Logan idly ruffled the pages of a random book off his shelves. He could wait; it would give him more time to look for loopholes in his plans. 

"Sure. Okay. The floor's yours, Logan."

"All right, thank you Virgil. See, I have been thinking - why hasn't Remus acted yet? Why is Roman so alarmed? Most importantly, how can we settle this once and for all?"

Virgil seemed to slouch even more in the chair. Logan turned around to summon a whiteboard and offhandedly said, "Don't slouch too much or you'll make yourself sore for the rest of the day."

A "got it" came from Virgil's direction. 

Taps sounded in the empty silence as Logan jotted down speculations of Remus' goals.

"Logan."

"Yes, Virgil?

"Care to explain why you're so on edge lately? You're up way earlier than usual these days. And don't think I haven't noticed that you're using your room effect."

"Of course. I apologize if I alarmed you. I just wanted to be prepared."

_ For the next attack,  _ Logan didn't say. Goodness knew that Virgil didn't like Remus or had a good relationship with him. Thomas functioned best without fear. Allowing harm to come to Virgil and Thomas was simply unacceptable. 

Virgil's lips uneasily twitched upwards as he considered Logan's statement. Remus' appearance had rattled him and left him on edge for days now. Clearly, Logan wasn't working fast enough.

"I, of course, could confront him directly with no harm to myself, but that option does not factor in Roman. Roman, as we all know, can be—"

There was a sharp jarring in his gut, almost akin to a stabbing.

"He's there."

Virgil was already up from his seat and dragging Logan into the hallway towards Roman's room. Logan only had the time to grab some items before he faced the room leading to Roman's domain. 

Dark, shadowed eyes stared at Roman's door. A glance at Virgil told Logan that he was starting to react negatively to Remus' presence. The floor was already darkening at his feet.

Logan pushed the door handle. It refused to give way. 

The lack of progress angered Logan. His fellow Side was in harm's way and he was being held back by a door. He refused to let Roman's recovery be hindered!

"Virgil, will you do me a favor and call Patton here please?" Logan hoped his tone didn't sound too harsh.

Virgil vanished. Logan swept his hand over the door, putting his will into the Mindscape. In reality, doors were made to open. Logically, the door hinges meant the door could open. Doors were not immobile barriers.

"Spare me the insult and  _ open as all doors should." _

Dirt flew with the door. He stepped into Roman's domain.

Once again, the world was tinged with green. Plants shriveled until they fell apart with just a touch. The wind swept by; carrying with it the smell of sour grapes. The ground crunched with his steps and his feet could feel every single sharp rock in the ground. The sky flashed and darkened, bathing the world in a poisonous green.

As he walked, he could feel the threads of the world straining to keep itself together. It was as if it was trying to warn him to turn back.

Quiet murmurs brushed his ears, telling him to leave. He was not welcome here. His steps never seemed to take him anywhere.

Now, why would that be? Unless...

"Interesting," he muttered, thinking aloud. "Trying to prevent me from reaching Roman? Or is Roman himself trying to prevent me from getting hurt?"

Experimentally, he extended his arm. Channeling his resolve into his arm, he made a grabbing motion.

The green parted for his blue.

_ I see.  _

He spoke aloud. "This rip in the Mindscape is like a wormhole. It will take me to Roman and Remus."

The air around his hand quivered as he forced it to respond to his perception of the Mindscape. Roman's room was not pleased that he was bending it to suit his needs. He could feel the resistance buffeting his form. 

He felt his patience fraying. Taking the rip he created completely into his grasp, he pried it bigger. If Roman or his room was offended by him, fine, so be it. Logan couldn't care less when there was a situation going on.

He checked his items, once, twice, and stepped into the wormhole.

———

When he emerged, the first thing he noticed was that he was standing in a dirt arena, like one made for jousting or a medieval duel. The second thing he noticed was that he currently sported both a katana and morning star as piercings. Roman looked horrified and was as white as his usual attire. Remus found the situation all too amusing. 

"Oh, for goodness' sake," he sighed; took off his glasses to pinch his nose, "you two and your inclination for guts and glory."

A beat. Two. True, the blood running down his shirt was uncomfortable but Logan felt no pain. Such a thing was not possible since, medically speaking, he wouldn't be able to feel pain. The katana stuck in his chest and the morning star that had been lodged in his head would have instantly shut down his body. He would have died instantly. 

However, that was neither here nor there. Logan knew that he would not be harmed. However, since this was strictly Roman's domain, he could not stop the visage of him being mortally injured. If he had a mirror, there was no doubt that Logan would be disdainful of his appearance. 

First things first: Roman. He could deal with his gruesome appearance outside Roman's room.

"Roman," he spoke slowly, "I am fine. There is no need to expend energy on worrying about me. Just focus on breathing." 

The katana in his chest really was not helping his case. Having a katana and morning star lodged into his body would make his basic motor functions difficult. He needed to remove them. 

With a frown, Logan passed his hand over his heart. The katana clattered to the ground with a clang; his shirt was clean and whole.

"Remus, if you would be so kind."

The morning star was removed from his head with a grumble from its owner. Remus held it over his shoulder, casually checking his nails.

"Logan, can you leave already? I haven't...extracted any bodily fluids." A sanguine sneer spread across his face.

Logan leveled a stare at Remus. "What a misleading way to say blood," he murmured, "but I'll have to oblige; as much as I dislike this. Roman, perhaps continuing to spar with a different opponent will help your mood."

Roman, who was sharpening his katana, nodded. Logan went to the edge of the arena. He knew full well the room would judge the true victor of the duel.

First blood decided the duel. Virgil and Patton were probably on their way with first aid kits. Logan supposed that he could only wait for now. 

Remus' attacks were largely focused on brute strength. His swings targeted Roman's head, hands, and legs. Every attack sent pebbles and dirt into the air. Because his weapon was a morning star, Remus put more of his weight and power into his swings. While superior to Roman in brute strength, it meant his likelihood of overstepping was increased. This also meant that he would take longer to recover from missed attacks, Logan noticed. 

Remus was perfectly happy to hurl insults at his brother. Logan could feel every impact, mental or physical. 

In contrast, Roman's style of fighting was to search for the one true weak point, much like an eye or gemstone set into the main villain. Theatrical and open, Roman specialized in well-timed dodges and rolls. He was faster than Remus due to the lightweight nature of katanas. However, due to the thin blade of katanas, Roman could not afford a direct confrontation lest the blade break or chip.

It was unlikely that he'd find a conclusive hit. The goal was first blood. Remus had no reservations against kicking up dirt to block Roman's view. Roman abhorred any tricks of the sort.

There was no talking between the brothers. Roman moved as if he was dancing; stepping back and twirling to put more momentum into his swings. He couldn't deflect so he had to dodge. Remus burned more energy directing the morning star. Under the intensifying sunlight, both brothers were sweating heavily. 

Logan's eyes hurt. He hadn't been blinking and the sunlight did him no favors. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

For a moment, he could smell fresh grapes and clean air. The stinging of his eyes receded.

Yet, there was something. Silence. Panting. 

Logan opened his eyes. Both brothers stood unarmed. Roman's katana was near Remus' feet. Remus' morning star was at Roman's feet. 

Sweat and fatigue had made them lose their grips on their weapons mid-attack.

"Ready to concede?" Remus called out. Roman snorted, grasped the handle of the morning star. He leaned on the handle, towards Logan. 

"Logan! Give us a count, won't you? This has gone long enough." If Logan didn't know better, the crazed smile Remus often parades was on Roman's face. 

Remus snorted, pulling the same face that Roman would pull. The katana hilt was confined with iron-tight hands.

"We haven't got all day!" He called. 

Logan pushed his glasses back onto his face. Patton and Virgil arrived as he stood, with faces ashen.

“Patton, did you give the okay for him to fight?” 

Patton let out a shaky breath; shook his head. “No-but you know how his room is! If you will it hard enough, it’ll do what you want it to do! That must be the case for his hands!”

Oh, Logan knew that look. “ _ No,  _ Patton, do  _ not _ blame yourself for this. This situation was not caused by you. However, that means I need to comply with Roman’s request or it will happen again.”

He raised his hand, called out, "Three! Two! One!"

His hand fell and the brothers charged.

Remus overstepped because he didn't adjust to the lighter katana. Roman fell short because he didn't put in the force needed to wield a large, modified morning star.

They both fell.

Both were grazed.

Remus wheezed before saying, "you got hit. Doesn't that mean it's my win?"

"But it was my sword. Doesn't count." Roman countered. "It'd be the equivalent of a training accident."

Both were silent. Logan took that as his cue.

"How about this then?" He asked, summoning a gauntlet. "Do not follow the footsteps of Amaterasu and Susanoo."

Roman eyed the gauntlet warily. "Logan, whatever you're going to do, don't."

Logan threw the gauntlet on the ground near Remus, to Roman's absolute horror.

"Logan!"

Realization dawned on Remus' face. 

"You want to challenge me, Four-Eyes? You?"

"Yes." Logan said simply. In his other hand was the long package he had grabbed from his room.

Remus' eyes traced up the package. He sat up, bounced the gauntlet in his hand.

"How about a verbal declaration then, nerd?"

Logan sighed. Always one for the dramatics, this one. 

After a moment of removing the cloth and sleeve, gasps emerged from his fellow Sides.

"Remus," Logan deliberated, "I hereby challenge you to a duel once you are fully healed. No handicaps, with weapons of our choosing. First one to surrender loses. Victor gets deciding rights, which are to be discussed."

Remus chuckled. "Well, how can I refuse? You cut...such a demanding figure."

True, Logan supposed. Remus had accepted his challenge the moment he picked up the gauntlet.

And, of course, Logan had his weapon.

In his hand, with its spike inches away from Remus, was a steel halberd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to put something like "Roman moved his feet as if dancing the tarantella." Maybe next time.
> 
> Logan's allusion refers to the Japanese goddess Amaterasu, god Susanoo, and their competition on who could create the most gods. After switching items, Amaterasu, using Susanoo's sword, created three deities while Susanoo created five deities using her necklace. Amaterasu then claimed that she was the victor since the five new deities were made from her necklace, which made them hers. Susanoo was enraged and caused Amaterasu to flee, which led to a period of darkness. You can read about it on Wikipedia :D
> 
> If my usage of this Japanese myth is offensive, please let me know so I can rectify it. The same goes for anything else in this fic.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave your thoughts in a comment!


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